


I'm Giving You the Match (Set Our Love on Fire)

by orphan_account



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pez and Henry banter, Right before Alex comes along as brown John Cusack, Soz for it, This is just Feelings(tm), after Texas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 18:18:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19408753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After fleeing from Alex in Texas, Henry feels things and Pez knows.





	I'm Giving You the Match (Set Our Love on Fire)

Henry knows far sooner than Alex ever would. It’s hard to hold onto a heart that was never his to begin with, but he tries. 

When Alex presses him down into the mattress with gentle kisses and wandering hands, he remembers that this is only for the moment. There is no future, there is no forever. Alex isn’t his to have, but it’s easy to lie when Alex scrupulously takes him apart. Here, with Alex, he isn’t the Prince of England pretending to be someone he isn’t; he’s just Henry, hopelessly in love with a boy from America who has dark, curly hair and eyes that see right through him.

He’s up in the clouds and Alex does nothing to bring him down. His whispered words of praise and his plush lips do nothing to soothe the pain in Henry’s chest, no, these things only make everything worse.

Henry is absolutely in love, and he has been for a long while.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

Pez leans back into the pillows on Henry’s bed, staring up toward the ceiling with a loud and obnoxious sigh.

Henry tries to ignore it, perched at the end of the bed, stroking David’s head.

Then Pez does it again, somehow louder this time, and Henry can’t ignore that.

“What is it?”

“I was just thinking,” Pez says, tipping the bottle of _Châteauneuf-du-Pape_ he’s holding between his fingers. Each finger has a different gemmed ring on it, and Henry watches them twinkle in the light. “I know you said this thing with Alex is temporary, but what if,” he pauses again, waving the bottle around with his grandiose gestures, “hear me out. What if it _isn’t_.”

Henry stares at him incredulously, fingers still scratching that sweet spot right behind David’s ear. He opens his mouth and then closes it again, seemingly at a loss for words.

He’s fairly certain Pez is going to spill red wine all over his bedspread at this rate, is his first realization. His second is that Pez is sloshed. “Can you stop waving that bottle around before I have to explain why my extremely expensive bedspread is stained red?”

Pez looks at him, gaze lingering, then he tips the bottle back and swallows it down. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

Henry rolls his eyes and stops petting David when he gets up and jumps off the bed. Hell, he would too with the way Pez is crawling toward him with one arm like some kind of drunken git. Well, technically he _is_ a drunken git. Semantics.

“Anyway,” Henry replies, taking the bottle from Pez’s hand when he plops down next to him. He takes a sip and taps his pinky finger against it, his signet ring hitting the glass, making a satisfying _clink_ _clink clink_ noise. “I’m a bloody prince and he’s-” Henry stops and purses his lips for a moment. “He’s a wanker.”

Pez rests his head against Henry’s shoulder and lets out a breath of air. “And you’re in love with him. It’s written all over your face. Tell me more about your adventure in Texas and how you called him _love_.”

Henry squints his eyes at Pez before taking another sip from the bottle. “It slipped out. It always slips out. I’m trying to keep it in, but _God_ , when I see him I just-”

Pez snatches the bottle back. “Become quite stupid.”

“Yeah. That.”

“I keep replaying the part in my head where you submerged your entire body underwater just to avoid him telling you he loves you.”

Henry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if he understands the magnitude of that word.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m sure he does. I’m also sure he’s getting tired of your running back home every time things get too real for you, too.”

Henry opens his eyes and looks down at Pez and his thick eyelashes; his vibrantly blue hair; his wild and gaudy rings. And he wonders, really wonders, why he’s sitting here in his bed in Kensington Palace on a Saturday night with him instead of Alex.

Right. Because he ran away. Again.

“You’re probably correct.”

“I’m most certainly correct.”

Henry moves his shoulder and Pez lifts his head to take another swig from the bottle that has to be nearing empty. “Do I text him?”

“I don’t know, do you?”

He doesn’t.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

Henry’s learned how it feels to love someone. This ever-present man in his life with his brilliant smile, his chin dimples, and his smooth skin. He remembers exactly how Alex feels against him. He’ll never forget every tender place that made Alex’s eyes roll back in his head when Henry touched them. 

He misses Alex. He really, really misses Alex. He stares at his phone hoping that more texts or emails or maybe a phone call will come through. Why, he’s unsure, because he has no intention of answering any of them. Maybe he just wants reassurance that Alex hasn’t forgotten about any of this.

Alex deserves more, he does. He deserves someone who can give him everything that he needs without any attachments. Henry has too many of those.

He takes to playing his piano, remembering when Alex sat there beside him and kissed him. How Alex’s hands felt in his hair, combing through it with gentle strokes. How his tongue felt so warm and wonderful in his mouth.

Henry tries to focus on his music, fingers drifting across the keys, but the notes are off and everything sounds wrong and horrible, and it takes every ounce of self-control to not bang his hands on the keys or slam the cover shut.

Then he cries. And he remembers when Alex took his hand and they stumbled back to Henry’s room. And he remembers the way Alex undressed him so carefully, meticulously, paying attention to every inch of his skin that slowly became exposed. His fingers were feather-light and gentle, and every touch was followed by an open-mouthed kiss and whispered words of endearment.

He remembers it all as he sits there on the piano bench in the middle of the afternoon on Sunday, staring blankly at the wall.

Love is not easy to navigate alone.

**Author's Note:**

> :)))))))))))
> 
> The title is taken from Hopeless by Khalid.
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr!](http://www.lecheesie.tumblr.com)


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